


Love Language

by anasticklefics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bonding, Gen, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anasticklefics/pseuds/anasticklefics
Summary: Tony learns Peter’s love language is touch.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Love Language

Tony wandered into the kitchen without really reflecting on it; sleep deprivation turning his limbs into the robotic parts he spent hours building. They needed oiling, he thought, as he sat down noisily in the 2AM gleam that was the lamps spilling yellow light into the room. He wasn’t sure why he was there, having no desire to either eat or drink a single thing despite probably needing to.

He wasn’t alone, he realized. Standing by one of the windows, the darkness outside a contrast in the artificial light, Peter met his gaze. He didn’t seem tired at all. Just surprised, his eyebrows rising, a question at the tip of his tongue.

Tony beat him to it. “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He shifted his weight, the counter digging into his back, or so Tony assumed. “And you?”

“I can’t stay awake.”

“So sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.” A childish answer that made Peter’s lips twitch upward. “I have no idea why I came in here,” he admitted.

“I think that’s a sign that you probably _should_ sleep, Mr Stark.”

“Why can’t you?”

Peter shrugged. “I’m feeling a bit. I don’t know. Restless?”

“Things on your mind?”

“Many.”

“You wanna share?”

“It’s all silly.”

“Silly things can keep anyone up.”

Peter pushed himself away from the counter, away from the window, and approached the table and the chair Tony had pushed forward for him to sit. “Well, I’m stressed about school.”

“That’s not silly.”

“It’s silly since apparently I have nothing to worry about. According to everyone I tell. I’m too smart to fail, blah, blah, blah.”

Tony grimaced. He did remember that. People telling him he had no right to complain or worry and therefore invalidating everything he’d felt. People did that now, too, and the pressure was a factor in his sleepless nights.

“Don’t listen to them,” he said, hand finding Peter’s shoulder. “You have the right to be stressed about anything no matter what.”

“I know.” Peter’s smile seemed tired. He leaned into his touch. “Sometimes I wish I could tell them I’m also dealing with being Spider-Man while studying for my physics exams.”

“Ah.”

“It’s just a little overwhelming, that’s all.”

Tony didn’t say anything. Just gave his shoulder a squeeze before withdrawing his hand. Peter slumped in his seat, eyes across the room. Looking too exhausted for 16.

Tony cleared his throat. “I can help you with homework.”

Peter let out a laugh, quiet, barely there. “It’s okay. It’s finding the time to do it that’s the problem.”

“I get that.”

“I reckon I could do it _now_ -”

“Uh, no. Nighttime is for relaxing.”

“You’re setting a perfect example.”

“Okay, you know what?” Tony reached out on instinct, letting his fingers poke at the kid’s ribs. “Snarkiness won’t get you anywhere, mister.”

Peter jerked away, hand gripping Tony’s wrist as louder laughter left his lips. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself. Now apologize.”

Peter squirmed in his seat, his hold of Tony keeping him from falling off, and Tony in turn keeping from accidentally pushing him off. They’d done this before and they would do it again.

The hand on the shoulder hadn’t been enough this evening. Peter was stressed, but not upset. Not nervous or worried. Simply overwhelmed, and making him laugh always helped.

It hadn’t taken too long for Tony to discover that Peter’s love language was touch. Hugs, hair ruffling, hands on shoulders and arms and knees. Turning the touches tickly was saved for special occasions such as tonight. Other nights were for reassuring words and embraces, or shared silences with palms to backs. He’d picked the wrong options a few times, but Tony felt like he knew exactly what Peter needed now by simply looking. And if he picked wrong again, he just needed to try again.

Tonight was for tickling; gentle fingertips fluttering over his neck and belly, squeezes to his knees and sides, scratching lightly over his lower back and arms. Tony’s favorite was to run his nails so very carefully over Peter’s wrists. He was saving it for last, craving the bubbly giggles like he craved air.

Peter wasn’t protesting, though Tony felt he probably would’ve preferred a couch. The kitchen was far from any bedroom, but if anyone decided to walk the corridors of this floor they might’ve been able to hear them. Wouldn’t be the first time, really. At least they had no need to explain themselves anymore, though Tony reckoned it was a strange activity to be partaking in in the middle of the night.

Maybe his robotic limbs had known Peter would be here, or at the very least hoped. Navigating the kid’s ticklish spots was definitely helping to keep him awake. Maybe the laughter would help lull Peter back to sleep later.

“You’re lucky no villain has ever tried this on you,” he said, just to fill his own grinning mouth with sounds too. “You’d share any bit of information ten seconds in.”

“I would _not_ -”

“You would.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“If you’re still talking I’m not doing my job correctly.”

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the tickling, which only lasted a few minutes but was enough to turn Peter into an incoherent mess. Tony noticed his eyes widening when he grabbed his wrist, but Peter did nothing to fight the oncoming sensation.

They both felt lighter after it.


End file.
